


I’m Kidnapping You To Be My Date to Evil Prom

by Clocksmith



Category: Crash Bandicoot (Video Games)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kidnapping, Pining, Prom, Slow Dancing, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocksmith/pseuds/Clocksmith
Summary: Kidnapping your date for evil prom is a long-standing tradition. Doing so to your archnemesis, not so much. Hoping that she might like you back? Even more so.
Relationships: Coco Bandicoot/Nina Cortex
Comments: 17
Kudos: 49





	I’m Kidnapping You To Be My Date to Evil Prom

**Author's Note:**

> A joint project between jacobgross555 and myself! I've had this bouncing around inside my head for a while and some new ideas injected in by jacobgross555 helped immensely.

Coco didn’t always understand why Nina Cortex kidnapped her, but context usually gave her a good enough idea.

The first tell came down to location; wherever her eventual prison turned out to be, it generally kept close to the scheme at hand. Nina’s laboratory suggested an already underway project, likely one that required input or labour from Coco herself. Being caged out on location implied that there was something Nina couldn’t create without an outside influence, or she perhaps required something that her intelligence and skill couldn’t immediately supply.

Time of day often held a few implications, too. While not an exact science, a late-night kidnapping generally meant that it was last minute or borne from frustration on Nina’s part. Mid-morning was planned. Later in the day suggested that, while necessary, Coco’s presence was only required in a minor role. Or to quell Nina’s sadistic sense of boredom.

Nina herself had many tells, even if the girl believed she could hide them. If she was calm, all was going to plan. Anything else? Coco was a last resort that Nina very much did not want to acknowledge.

And of course, if there was a giant robot in the nearby vicinity, that was a good indicator, too.

Today… had not quite fallen in line when any particular past experience.

Today, Coco was hung from the ceiling by the ankles in Nina’s bedroom.

The kidnapping had been fairly mundane, too. A small trap, a cage and then a ride to the Cortex’s Iceberg Laboratory. No pomp, no zany circumstances.

Not even a speech proclaiming Nina’s intellectual superiority.

A talking down might have made the whole ordeal just that little bit more bearable, Coco thought. Upside-down as she was, a pressure was building in the front of her head. The muscles in her lower legs were swiftly growing numb and the ordinariness of the room only proved to make the situation all the harder to cope with.

There was nothing going on. There was no hype up to some evil project. It was just Coco, hung from the ceiling as Nina went about… whatever it was she was doing. She had left the room several minutes before, through a different door than the one that they had entered.

“Still here, Brainiac!” Coco bellowed, shaking around in a frustrated spasm.

It only proved to reminded Coco that, yes, her ankles were still bound in rope from the ceiling and, yes, she couldn’t get herself down. A scowl etched deep onto her face, but it held all the ferocity of a cat with its paws tangled in string.

Having her hands tied tight behind her back did not do much to improve that image.

“Get in here so I can kick your butt, Cortex!”

A nasally voice screamed back from behind a barely open door. “I’ll come and get you _when I’m ready!_ ”

“Ready for _what?_ ”

No reply, only the rustling of fabric from an unknown point that Coco couldn’t place. She tried to once again shake herself free, regardless. “Nina!”

Even by Nina’s standards, this was getting ridiculous. There was nothing. No activity, no clues as to what purpose Coco was meant to serve. She was in Nina’s _bedroom._ Not a lab, not an underground bunker. Not even a _lair._

It was about as mundane as evil could get.

It was as mundane as _Nina_ could get.

Coco decided that it was worth her time to scream again. “Nina!”

What was she even doing? Was she in a wardrobe? A bathroom? The brief glimpse of the floor Coco could see between the open crack implied the former, though she could hardly rule out something else entirely. What else did you have conjoined to a bedroom?

Were evil families different? Was there an _evil room_ attached to each bedroom? An _evil room_ where _evil things_ happened?

… Coco thought it best to avoid the implications.

When the door did eventually open again, it revealed a new kind of Nina Cortex.

A formal Nina Cortex. She wore a dress; a pitch-black corset highlighted with midnight blue ribbon wrapped around her upper torso, revealing the slightest heft of breast that Coco had otherwise never known Nina to have. It all flowed into a ruffled skirt, the black pouring down like a midnight storm on a starless night. A small black purse.

The ensemble was completed by a pair of thick heeled platform boots. They were unscuffed, the leather completely smooth.

But it wasn’t just the clothes. Nina’s hair was less contained, freer to bounce and held together by only a decorative pin in the shape of a candy black skull. A thin curtain of hair fell over Nina’s eyes and for the time in her every moment of thinking, Coco considered that Nina Cortex could perhaps be beautiful.

“I know; I’m gorgeous.”

And so humble about it, too…

Eyeliner framed hair eyes, the thick darkness accentuated by the gloss of her black lipstick. “Are you actually going to tell me why you’re in a dress? Wearing _makeup_.” Far more than usual, at least.

“Evil prom night,” she said simply. “I need to look my best. I am _not_ going to be shown up by the vermin that insist on infesting my school.”

Prom… night? “Evil Schools have proms?”

“Evil schools have _evil_ proms.”

“Right…” Of course, they did. “So why am I here?”

“You’re my date.”

She– no. No, that couldn’t… Coco wasn’t–

“What?”

“You’re my date to evil prom,” Nina dully repeated.

“I heard what you said. My question still stands.”

Nina’s brow furrowed as her tongue clicked at the inside of her teeth. “Prom. Date. Evil. Which word don’t you understand?”

“I don’t understand why _I’m_ your date to prom at a school I don’t even go to.”

“You’ve _never_ been to school.”

_“Nina!”_

“Fine,” she begrudgingly relented, hands folding neatly behind her back. “I have standards. The peons at my school fall well below those standards, and I would die a slow and painful death at the hands of _Willie Wumpa Cheeks_ before I ever even _consider_ considering any of them as my date to prom. That only leaves choosing a partner from outside of Evil Public School.”

“Then why–” Coco found herself abruptly cut-off.

“There were multiple candidates. Tawna, of course. But she is hardly the most intelligent marsupial, and if she can find any interest in your brother, then I doubt I will gain much from her company. I don’t care much for her friends, either,” Nina added, waving a metal fingers vaguely in the air. “Gurin is pleasant enough, but she’s already taken and dealing with a disgruntled penguin boyfriend would only complicate matters. Kidnapping Yaya would just incentivise you and Crash to come and spoil my evening.”

“You think kidnapping _me_ won’t incentivise Crash to spoil your stupid prom?”

“I told him you’d be back by tomorrow. He seemed cool with it.”

Coco could only groan. Was her archnemesis routine with Nina really so… routine? Or was Crash simply so numb to their fighting at this point that he thought it better to just let the whole ordeal pan out?

Did he think Coco could handle herself?

Did he think better of Nina than Coco knew?

Was he being lazy?

… probably lazy. _Definitely_ lazy.

Coco groaned again, louder. It wasn’t that he _wasn’t_ intelligent. He had simply inherited more… animalistic traits, compared to Coco and Tawna.

Regardless, it didn’t seem like he was going to be any sort of help.

“What about Crunch?” Coco hurriedly asked.

“He’s not my type, if you hadn’t guessed already. I did consider him, solely to have a piece of arm candy but I doubt I would last an entire evening trying to pull even an iota of intellectual conversation out of him.”

“Not taking him to prom, you idiot! I mean coming to get me.”

Nina raised a single eyebrow. “Does he ever rescue you?”

“I-I mean, no. Not exactly.”

“Then it looks like you’re going to be my date to evil prom.”

“But why am _I_ your date? Couldn’t you just make a robot, or something.”

“Yes, because the best way to one-up my peers is to bring a date that I _made_ to prom,” Nina replied, her voice flat and droll. “No. No, I picked you because you are objectively the best choice on the archipelago.”

Coco had expected some pointlessly complex explanation, but Nina’s words caught her off guard. “The objectively best choice?” Really?

Despite her own wishes, Coco’s ears perked at the answer. “You are vastly intelligent compared to many of your so-called _friends_ , physically fit and moderately independent.” _Thanks_ , Coco thought. _Good to know_. “You are also, for lack of a better term, attractive.”

“Did… you just call me attractive?”

“I made the _observation_ that you are objectively attractive.”

Coco didn’t exactly consider objective to be the sort of word that people ever used when attractiveness was concerned. Even between species, it was entirely down to personal preference, social norms and a billion other factors that Coco couldn’t think to name. There were a lot of words that could be used to describe someone. Even more when you coupled a few of these words together.

Objectively and attractive didn’t seem like such an appropriate combination.

“Right…” Coco eventually tried. “So… you’re a lesbian?”

“Congratulations. I was right; you _do_ have a brain.”

Funny. “And you just assumed that I am, too?”

“You have a pride flag stitched onto your overalls, dumbass.”

A brief glance to the thigh of her jeans reminded Coco that, yes, there was still a little six-striped flag stitched into the worn denim. “A-ah. Yeah.”

With that, Nina’s gauntlets extended up towards the ceiling. Coco felt the rope grow slack and for a sudden moment, she feared that she would soon find her face coming into quick contact with the bedroom floor. Instead, Nina’s hands eased her down until Coco was comfortably laying on the carpet.

In a display of surprising dexterity, Coco watched as Nina began to untie the ropes at her ankles. But not before she eyed Coco sharply and added, “you even dare try to mess up my dress or my makeup and will _end_ you.”

For the first time in a long while, Coco fully believed Nina to be correct.

Nina continued until Coco stood on two feet, her wrist and ankles completely free with only the barest remnants of tightness remaining on her fur. Coco rubbed at her wrists regardless, in part due to the rising worry in her nerves. She knew only the bare essentials of prom and how it functioned.

Normal prom. She couldn’t even guess how an evil prom was meant to work.

“Suit or dress?”

So much so that she almost missed Nina’s question. “Pardon?”

A rough sound forced itself out of Nina’s nose. “Do you want to wear a suit or a dress?”

“You’ve… picked out clothes for me?”

“I’m not taking you to prom in dungarees and sneakers. Or a messy ponytail. You’re my date, and you’re not making me look bad. Suit or dress?”

Coco had absolutely no idea. She’d never had to consider whether she would be for one or the other. She’d never been to anything event remotely considered formal. Or something that required anything more than the clothes that she always wore.

But… she never wore a skirt, right? She’d never been remotely interested in trying. “Suit?”

Nina returned into the same door as before, all but confirming to Coco that it was indeed some form of walk-in wardrobe. She returned holding a garment bag, hung from a black coat hanger. Presumably with the aforementioned suit inside.

“Have you showered today?”

“Y-yes! Yes, I’ve showered!”

“Get changed then; make sure it all fits. I need to deal with transport.” Nina then stepped towards the only other door in the room, the one that opened into a hallway that Coco could only just remember being grey with some sort of black carpet. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

With that, Coco was alone, left to stare at the bag now laying on Nina’s bed. Unzipping it, it indeed revealed a suit, all black and formal as Coco had seen time and time before on television. That is, spare for the highlight of midnight blue that spread up the lapels and the matching waistcoat beneath.

Not as extravagant as Nina’s dress, not by a mile. But Coco supposed that was at least partially by design.

Even with Coco’s distinct lack of experience with formal clothing, it was simple enough get dressed, all buttons as it was.

The entire outfit, though. That was something else.

The shirt fit perfectly; the sleeves only the slightest bit baggy enough to allow for full mobility. The formal trousers fit snug enough that there would be no need for any sort of belt. The blue waistcoat was a rather humbler affair, easily going over the shirt.

But the coat was tailored to the extreme. Fine stitching, comfortable silk on the inside with several pockets for all the little things that Coco would not be carrying. The sleeves only centimetres shorter than that of the shirt…

Plain socks. But no shoes, though. At least, not that Coco could find.

Nina returned only several minutes later. When she caught sight of the suit, Coco was so sure that she saw something in Nina’s eyes. A glimmer of the feeling that Coco had felt when she saw this new Nina for the first time, wrapped in fine silks and a tight corset.

It was gone before she could question it. “Good, it fits,” was the only response that Coco received. Verbally, at least. Nina’s eyes lingered for several seconds longer than was socially appropriate. Then she took in a deep breath. “Shoes. I’ll get the shoes.”

She did. Multiple pairs, in fact.

“They… all look the same?” Coco asked, not sure if it really was a question, or not.

“They _are_ the same. I don’t know your shoe size.”

“But you knew all of my other measurements.”

“You have human proportions. You do not have human feet.”

Coco… supposed that made sense. “Should I be insulted?”

“It’s an _observation_ ,” Nina bit back. “Try these on.”

Clenching her knuckles, but doing as she was told, Coco tried each pair. Five, in all. Each almost felt like the right size, but each also felt wrong in some capacity. To narrow, too long.

“This one kinda fits,” Coco said, tapping her feet on the carpet.

“Kinda?”

“I mean, they’re a bit long and wide, but they’re better than the others.”

Nina harrumphed before ushering Coco to remove the shoes. After doing so, she marched out into the hallway and screamed.

“Uncle Cortex! Where’s the shrink ray?”

An all too familiar voice came back from somewhere further in the building. Downstairs. Or upstairs.

“How should I know?!”

“You used it last!”

“You think I remember where I keep all my evil machines?”

There was a deep and audible growl from outside the bedroom door. “I need it for prom!”

“Why do you need my shrink ray for prom?”

“I need it for Coco’s shoes!”

Coco…

Nina never called Coco by her first name. Not without the threat of grievous body harm.

“Then why didn’t you kidnap her a week ago and take her measurements like I told you to?!”

There was quiet, for the briefest moment. “S-shut up. Shut up! This is my evil prom night and I’m doing it my way. Don’t you fucking ruin this for me!”

Coco merely sat on Nina’s bed, willing any and all available hope in the universe to at least consider making sure that this… _thing_ turned into something even slightly better than the absolute train wreck she knew it was going to be.

The yelling continued as Nina wandered away down the hall, her voice growing only marginally quieter as her bickering contest with Cortex continued out of sight. She eventually returned with the same pair of shoes.

“Try them now.”

Coco did. They fit perfectly.

“Thanks,” she added, warily. Coco moved to stand, only to have her shoulders forced back down.

“We’re doing makeup. Don’t move.”

“What? No, wait– why are we doing any of this?!”

“Prom. Date. It’s not a hard concept.”

“What, you just _decided_ to take me to prom?”

“I made myself quite clear on why I chose you.”

“No– ugh! That’s not what I mean! We. Are. Enemies.” Coco made especially sure to emphasise the final three syllables. “Archenemies! Archenemies don’t _do_ makeup. Archenemies don’t do prom! You didn’t even ask!”

Nina’s face curdled, as if the very idea was one that could spoil fresh milk. “Why would I ask you to prom?

“Because that’s what you do! You ask out people to prom.” At least, according to every piece of fiction that Coco had ever observed.

“Look, furball. I don’t know how things work at goody-two-shoes-hero prom nights, but evil proms? You take your partner. No one _asks_ anyone to prom.”

Coco stared back. “That makes zero sense.”

Nina’s gauntlet began to drag through her own hair, only to stop at her forehead before any damage could be done to her ‘work’. She instead settled on a forced smile and a clenched fist. “If you’re dating someone, or you like someone, you kidnap them and take them to prom. That way everyone knows they belong to you, and that you’re not the pussy in the relationship.”

But they weren’t dating. They were as _far_ from dating as Coco could possibly imagine. Which only left…

It left–

“… You like me?”

Up close, Coco could see the bare traces of foundation applied to Nina’s face. A pale blue decorated her cheeks, obscuring traces of the freckles that usually sat there. But even that could not hide the rising blush trying to break through.

A sneer spread across those same cheeks as Nina’s attention went back to a makeup box that suddenly found itself yanked up from the floor and dropped onto the bed.

“You’re my date to prom. End of discussion,” Nina firmly stated, the bare hint of a tremble on her black lips. “We’re doing makeup.” She opened the box, revealing several vials and brushes in various styles. Every single one a shade of purple, black, blue or more black. “Sit still.”

Unwillingly – or perhaps unable – to allow the previous conversation any rational place in her mind, Coco placed her hands in her lap and did as she was told.

She could have moved. She could have kicked Nina in the jaw or swatted the makeup box to the floor. She could have ripped apart the shirt she had been given or worse, forced the makeup in Nina’s hand to stain the fabric of her dress. She could have fought back in any number of different ways.

She could have escaped.

“What are you doing,” Coco instead asked, a pencil perilously close to her eye.

“Eyeliner.”

“Obviously. I meant–”

“Sit still!”

Coco did, if only to avoid a pencil stabbing her in the eye. At least, that’s what she told herself.

Next came mascara, then eyeshadow. Each appeared black to Coco’s eye, but her glimpses were brief. Any movement was replied with Nina’s hand on her chin. Never roughly, but firmly enough to hold Coco in place.

Then, to Coco’s surprise, it was done. Nina began to pack her tools away.

“That’s it?”

“You have fur. I planned around it.”

“Just because I have fur doesn’t mean I can’t wear makeup.”

Nina seemed to consider this. “Do you know how to apply makeup?”

“Yeah,” Coco replied, much quieter than she had intended. “Yaya taught me.”

“Then… you can do your own. I-if you’d like. There’s a mirror in the wardrobe.”

“Okay?” Coco stood up, curious to see whether Nina would actually allow her the honour of getting up from the bed. “You… don’t want to watch me? Or anything?”

“No,” she replied, quickly. “I have stuff to do.” The metal in her knuckles cracked as her eyes flickered towards the bedroom door. “I’ll be back in five.”

And she was gone. Again.

The flickering idea of escape presented itself once more. In the sheer quiet of Nina’s bedroom, there was little else in the way of noise to fill Coco’s head. She could stay, or she could leave. No matter how many finer points she put between either option, it still left her with a stable choice of one or the other.

It was so black and a white a choice that it should have been entirely obvious. At least, it would have been only a few hours ago.

But for the life of her, Coco Bandicoot could not pin down the reason why that had changed.

So many stray strings of thought spread up through her head that it made little sense trying to focus on any one of them. She felt rage, the mere act of being kidnapped a reminder of everything that had come before. Boredom for the mundanity of the whole scheme. Pride that stopped her being another mere damsel in the Cortex history book.

Indifference to Nina’s plight.

A _curiosity_ towards Nina’s plight.

Jealousy that Nina _had_ a prom to go to.

… A bright feeling over the fact that Nina had picked her at all. For so biased a reason as Coco being objectively better than everyone else.

You could not be objectively better than anyone else. Each person, each and every person or creature or monster that Coco knew held something over another. Nina held her intellect. Yaya held her sociability. Crash held his determination, Crunch his sheer strength. Cortex his ingenuity. Dingodile, his drive for business, Tawna her… assets.

Coco liked to think of herself as book smart and good with machines. There were many skills she did not have, skills she likely never would excel at.

Yet Nina had thought her as the objectively better option than everyone else in every way. But who did that say more about? Coco?

Or Nina?

Time had surely passed her by, and yet Coco still found herself stood dumbly in the middle of Nina’s room, no closer to any real answer. No closer to picking any real choice.

At the very least, she wanted to see what Nina had done with her makeup. Coco picked up the makeup box and sheltered it under her arm.

Moving into the wardrobe, Coco was greeted with more than she had expected, though even she wasn’t quite sure what that was meant to be. A large vanity sat to the right, all black and silver with a wide mirror that stretched the entire length of the ornate, noticeably metal table. Several drawers occupied the surface, each with sizable metal pulls attached. Each was bent out of shape.

To left were the clothes.

Coco only found it in herself to say one thing. “Whoa…”

To say that there were a lot of clothes present would be a lie; the collection wasn’t so much big, as it was varied. A wide rail ran along the wall, hangers with whole outfits hung neatly over each. The expected blacks, blues and purples were prominent, but littered among them were anomalies that Coco couldn’t place. One noticeably pink, another splattered with neon green in a pattern Coco couldn’t see. Denim jackets with buttons, jumpers and hoodies and several hats organised above the railing itself.

Coco had only ever seen Nina in a handful of outfits, her current dress included. Each showed little variation between appearances.

A few shelves offered single items; jeans, mostly. A cabinet filled with minimal variety of shoes that didn’t seem to pair with any single outfit. But the dozen or so outfits and their combinations dwarfed anything Coco had at home. She had a single cupboard and set of drawers. Denim overalls, jeans, a few alternate colours for special occasions. As far and few between as special occasions were for her.

But that was Coco. Coco who spent her time running around, fixing up old machines and playing videogames. Her clothes functioned perfectly for what she needed. They resisted wear and got the job done.

To an extent, Coco had considered Nina the same. Her wardrobe – before today – had seemed to consist of dress suits and thick-heeled boots. A modicum of formality in clothes that otherwise fit her personality; smart, precise and more than a bit pompous.

But… dresses.

Nina had dresses. And at least one of them in a colour that Coco could _still_ not imagine Nina having the stomach to wear.

Crash and Crunch seemed to often forget that Coco was a girl. They treated her much the same as they treated each other, both in standing and in language. Maybe Cortex hadn’t evolved them to think in the same way that she did, or maybe they were just that welcoming. Her heart knew it to be the latter.

But it seemed that Coco and fallen into the same trap with Nina. To what extent, Coco couldn’t guess. But…

A part of her was curious, even if just to see how far down the rabbit hole she could get.

But that was later. In the here and now, Coco had at least partially promised to work on her makeup. Sitting in a basic metal stool in front of the mirror, she got her first glance at the work Nina had put in. The eyeshadow was a dark purple, sparsely used and only to haze above the meticulous linework that now rested above and beneath Coco’s eyes. Thick lines that cut into sharp points as they strayed from her eyelids.

Coco hadn’t been sat for that long, yet the lines were perfect. Entirely straight and precise. An even greater feat considering the sheer size of Nina’s hands.

It was attractive, even if it was not something Coco would have ever tried herself.

“Blush…” she mumbled, reaching in the box for something that was vaguely the same colour as the eyeshadow.

Not that Coco could account for bare skin, but fur required more a massage than a simple brush. You rubbed it in, ever so slightly, stain by stain until it was perfect. Heaven forbid you go to far; unless you washed out the makeup in its entirety, you were stuck with it.

But minor was all Coco needed. Something small, to match her eyelids. Only there to accessories and allow the eyes to take full attention.

There was nothing remotely close to the colour of her fur, however. No room to fix any minor inconsistencies in tone. The eyes would hopefully pull away from–

Why did it matter?

This was not Coco’s event. This was not– should not have been Coco’s problem.

Coco did not need to care about Nina’s stupid evil prom. They were enemies. _Archenemies._ They had tried to kick the absolute snot out of each other on so many occasions that Coco could likely date her major life events around them. Nina had tried to throw her off a cliff _just last week._

Nina was cruel.

Nina had _kidnapped_ Coco for the sole purpose of taking her to an event that she had absolutely no obligation to go to. There was nothing stopping Coco from running the first chance she got. Or better yet, ruining Nina’s evening with all of her stupid evil peers watching.

Coco was free to do whatever she wanted.

Coco stared at her reflection in the mirror, unsure of she’d ever seen herself look so polished, so groomed to attend an event even remotely described as fancy or formal.

She’d never been invited to anything like that. And Nina had personally picked her to be that plus one. Because Nina… liked her?

Was that even accurate, or was Nina’s explanation simply that generic? Was Coco simply a choice, or had she actually been chosen from something more than just bare logic and cold comparisons of everyone than she and Nina knew?

What did it even mean if Nina did like her? Was their whole relationship as enemies some petty ruse because Nina didn’t know how to talk to people that weren’t intent on destroying the world? Was she bullying Coco for attention? Or was this whole affair with prom an elaborate trick, one meant to catch her off-guard and fool Crash into thinking she would be back soon, never to return?

Was Nina Cortex even _capable_ of thinking of someone in a way that did not fall under either disgust or hatred?

Coco looked back to the pink dress.

_Or was Nina not as two-dimensional as she had thought her to be?_

Coco wasn’t even sure she _knew_ what she knew, anymore.

But she knew the sound of a door opening, and she heard precisely that from outside the wardrobe. The mechanical clicking of metal knuckles popped in the silence before Nina appeared in the mirror, her form gruffly stepping in to join Coco.

“You done?” she asked, voice deep.

“Uh, yeah?” What else was Coco meant to say. She turned to face Nina directly. “I added blush.”

Nina breathed. She looked over Coco once more, as if they’d be separate for more than just a few minutes. As if Nina hadn’t seen her week. Months.

Years.

Then her forehead come back down in a rough frown, her eyes pulled towards the floor. “Can you comb your hair?”

Coco snorted. “I don’t know; can I comb my hair?”

“I was _asking_ if you _would_ comb your hair.”

“Then you could have said please.”

“I don’t _say_ please.”

“You’ve kidnapped me to take me to a party that I had no intentions of going to. I didn’t even know it existed, and I definitely didn’t think I’d be invited to anything like it by you. The least you can do is say please when ask me to fix my _messy ponytail._ ”

Nina grimaced, her face morphing into something foul. Something resembling normality, before she muttered some absurdly new words under her breath between gritted teeth.

“Can you…” Her lips squirmed, as if something particularly nasty was oozing out over her tongue. “C-can you _please_ comb your hair? I don’t know how to deal with hair as long as yours…”

Nina was saying please now.

Nina was offering explanations.

Nina was weirding Coco out. She took a nearby brush and did the only thing she could think to occupy her mind. Her scrunchy was removed as she dragged the brush through the deep tangles of her blonde hair.

It wasn’t that Coco didn’t comb her hair. She just never cared to do it every day. Not when she could readily tie it up into something more manageable.

And in the mirror, she could see Nina staring, eyes curious. But as soon as Coco noticed, Nina was away, her focus on floor once more.

Coco let it go, though. If she was to get through the evening, she didn’t want to deal with all the extra baggage that asking questions came with. Once again, she questioned why she was still sat where she was. Why she was doing as she was told.

She supposed that was another reason to stay with Nina for the evening; to find out.

That wouldn’t involve any fancy hairstyles, however. Coco simply had no idea how to achieve anything other than a ponytail or the natural look. She’d never needed to, and if she ever did it would be with the help of Yaya.

She had explained as much to Nina

“It’s fine,” was all the reply that she got. Nina had seemed ready to say something else. Whatever it was, the words died on her tongue and slid back to wherever it was they’d come from.

Before she knew it, Coco was done, and she was being ushered into the hall and back down the stairs. She trailed behind, eyes wandering over the various items and frames that lined the halls. It was rather easier to do so when you weren’t tied up or in a cage.

Every now and then. there were photographs, too. Some of people that Coco didn’t recognise… and many of Cortex himself. Given his usual taste for interior decorating, Coco was not in the slightest bit surprised.

But every now and then there was someone else. A little girl. A baby in a black crib. A teenager, and nothing in between the two ages. There was a toddler with hands… and then there was Nina.

Curiosity begged the question, but Coco shut it down.

Down one set of stairs, then down another and Coco was in… somewhere. A wide room with marble kitchen counters to one side and plush seating in the other. Miscellaneous items of no particular purpose sat around in organised locations that seemed just right for them. A remote on the end of the couch, cushion haphazardly laying wherever their previous master had placed them.

There was a wide television, playing a sitcom that Coco didn’t recognise. The laughter was as canned as any other show of its kind, but it made the room even warmer for it.

“Oh, Nina!”

And then Coco noticed Cortex, and she knew it would all be downhill from there. He held a smartphone in his hands, tapping away at the glass with wicked abandon as a quick flash ached the space behind Coco’s eyes.

“You look wonderful! And _evil!_ ”

Coco heard the sneer in Nina’s voice. “Put any of these online and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“These are going straight in the family album!” he sang, uncaring. “Move in closer. We need a shot with you and your archnemesis.”

“U-uh, we don’t _need_ –” Coco tried, but not hard enough.

Nina’s arm stretched out to pull at Coco’s waste, yanking her close. Their hips touched and she felt Nina’s grip suddenly stiffed.

“Now smiles! If you don’t give me one yourselves, I’ll have to photoshop it in!”

This… wasn’t happening.

Why was this happening?

How was–

No shot was taken as Cortex waited, peering over his phone.

Nina pulled tighter for a moment before hissing, ”smile, or _we don’t get to leave_ ,” through gritted teeth.

Coco did as she was told, her muscles forced as a hand floated aimlessly around Nina’s bare shoulder.

Cortex’s phone flashed again as he moved from side to side… and then it was over.

“Perfect!” He flicked at his phone, presumably skipping through the pictures. “We could get a few more by the–”

“No, we’re not,” Nina gruffly interrupted. Then she did something unexpected, even by the standards that Coco slowly found herself becoming accustomed to.

She grabbed Coco’s hand.

“Come on, ride’s waiting.

Almost falling over her on feet, Coco relented to Nina’s strength. The gauntlet kept her hand locked in place, an oversized shackle in every sense but name as her warden pulled her along for the ride. The flesh pinched between pieces of thick metal, it hurt. Small bursts of pain etching at the nerves in her skin.

Coco turned back to Cortex as she was pulled away, as if somehow hoping that he of all people would bring an end to this madness.

Instead, his brow lowered and eyes drilled into her soul. “Ruin prom for her, and I will destroy your house and your island and everything you love.”

In all the years she’d known Cortex, Coco hadn’t ever outright feared him. She’d laughed at him, been waring of his presence. Struggled to fight back against his minions and inventions.

But in this moment, she didn’t doubt that he would do everything in his power to absolutely crush her.

“But have fun!” he added, his voice light and absolutely genuine.

Her last glimpse of him was through the crack of a swiftly closing metal door, the hydraulics hissing as it clamped shut. Coco breathed a heavy sight of relief, the outside air bringing a pleasant chill to the tension in her muscles.

Then she looked forward.

“It’s about time,” a new voice said.

“T-tropy?”

This was it.

This was the day that Coco Bandicoot found out she could have a heart attack.

“Sadly,” he replied. He turned his attention to Nina, hissing through gritted teeth. “When I said that I owed you a favour, I did not mean to imply that I would be a taxi service.”

“You’re not a taxi service, you’re my ride to prom.”

“Exactly. A _taxi service_.”

His lips were thin, pressed in a straight line as his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Under the breeze, Coco could just about hear the ticking of a clock, each second counted and made all the longer for it.

“I can only assume she dragged you into this farce as well, hm?” he asked, though Nina was the one to answer.

“Who I take to prom is none of your damn business.” Nina’s hand clenched painfully tight around Coco palm, crushing the fingers together. “You owe me for those blue gems. You agreed to a request.”

“Again _. Sadly.”_

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

He looked ready to repeat his previous line of argument again, but he ultimately relented. The sneer on his face fell into something only slightly less ugly as he stepped away from the laboratory.

“And the sooner we get this over with, the sooner our agreement will be complete. And I can get back to productive work.”

“You can do whatever want. So long as you take us there and pick us up.”

“Quite,” he reluctantly agreed. “Are the… _ladies,_ ready for departure?”

He smirked at them, though Coco couldn’t decide if the comment was aimed at her or Nina. Or both. There was a certain tone behind it that rubbed Coco the wrong way.

He made a show about waving his hand towards a vehicle. It hovered just off the ground, an angular thing made from brass and tempered glass. Pistons worked away at the rear, flashes of green swirling away inside like a broken storm. The face of a clock sat proud at the helm, gold with silver hands ticking away at precisely even intervals.

It…

No. it couldn’t be a–

Not for something as mundane as a prom. Surely?

“Ladies first,” Nina urged from Coco’s side. It was then that she realised her hand was free, only an dull ache from the fading pressure remaining.

And Nina had something close to a smile on her face. Something open and utterly natural, without pretence of hatred lurking just beneath the surface.

Coco stared at it longer than she should have, her face squirming at the newness of it all.

Nina hurriedly hid it away, her scowl returning. As familiar a sight as it was, the action felt forced, even to Coco. “Get in the time machine.”

Time machine.

It _was_ a time machine.

To… to prom.

People got weird vehicles to prom; Coco knew that much. She recalled a cartoon from sometime before she’d ever met Nina, a boy asking has dad to take him in an ambulance. It was all just a complicated popularity contest, another layer above the flashy clothes and the grades and their dates. Another way for students to outdo one another at an event that should otherwise be a simple celebration of graduation. Or growing up.

And of course, Nina Cortex had to turn up in a time machine.

Coco hurriedly slid in the back seat; the chair surprisingly firm beneath her. It smelled of fresh leather than pine. Nina followed, her hips once again coming too close to Coco’s own… before she budged herself several inches away until her arm pressed against the now closed rear door.

Tropy fell into the front. Despite his size and weight, the machine stayed entirely stable. His helmet knocked around the air freshener hung from a rear-view mirror.

It was a little green pine tree.

“You put in the right time and place?” Nina asked.

“Of course,” Tropy grunted. “This is _my_ time machine. I’m not an imbecile.”

“We’re actually travelling in time? For the prom?” Coco enquired.

“Kinda have to. Started three hours ago.”

“If you were time travelling to the prom then why were you getting stressed?”

Nina’s pale cheeks speckled red again. “None of your business. Tropy!”

“Shout at me like that again and you’ll be spending your _prom night_ in Mesazoic!”

“Just get us there.”

His fist shook in a rage that Coco could only hope stayed contained. A moment’s pause seemed to satiate its need to kill, however. He turned a simple key in the ignition.

So much for high-tech.

Time machines didn’t exactly hold positive memories for Coco. Her time spent dealing with the mess that was the Time Twister could only attest to that. Throwing both Crash and herself through history with a fragrant disregard to any implications that such a adventure could have had. That was after following behind idiot evildoers who had tried to make an even bigger mess of history on purpose.

And then you had her travelling back to help Crash with Cortex the first time. And the second time.

As useful as she had been, it was a time in her life where nothing quite stood still. Every moment in one location could mean never existing in another. A black mist of sorts had been held over their heads with no inkling on when – or if it would ever truly fall.

And now she was in another time machine. One that was still being used without regard for history. At least they were only travelling by hours, and not centuries.

Small conciliation when it proved Nefarious Tropy was still knee deep in his experiments.

He played with a selection dials and levers, all gold and brass. Something hissed as Coco watched the doors pressed in further, a pressure building at their sides.

Doors. Sealed.

She definitely wasn’t getting out of this, not now. A part of her, a steadily shrinking part of her was still so sure that this would all flip at the last moment. That this time machine was really an oversized cage, that the doors sealing shut was simply to keep Coco contained as Nina and Tropy got whatever it was they wanted out of her.

But in a brief instant, the dark of the night sky wasn’t so dark anymore. An orange now lit the world, scarred with gathering black clouds that threatened to blot out what little was left of the setting sun.

The doors hissed once more.

“Castle Crumb. As requested, _Cortex_.”

The door on Coco’s side opened of its own accord, revealing black cobbles patterned beneath. In the seemingly random mix of stone shapes, Coco was sure she saw the foretelling of something dark and horrible.

Coco moved to leave as Tropy leaned back and handed a small brass case to Nina. About as small as a matchbox, and just as plain.

“Inside there is a switch. Only activate it when I am to pick you up. If you’re not stood right here when I am, I shan’t be waiting.”

“Whatever,” Nina replied. She placed the box in her purse.

There was a beeping next to Tropy.

“What’s that?” Coco asked.

“My cue to pick you up. Now get out. I’m not in the mood for dealing with paradoxes this early into the evening,”

Early? “But… this is a time machine?”

“It is _my_ time machine. Out!”

Coco decided she was better off doing as she was told. Moving out of the time machine, Coco stood tall as she took in this new place.

Castle Crumb was a tall thing, crafted with obsidian spires that bent in unnatural angles. Graphic depictions of monsters devouring human heads lined a level of wall above the first floor as the eerie presence of shadows shifted inside a lit window. Despite the large presence that seemed to be inside, many more were making their way through a large front doorway, decorated with flags in black designs and a large banner hanging over head. It sagged with aged and showed it. Poorly.

It said, in sharp letters, “GOOD RIDDANCE, YOU LITTLE FUCKERS!” Directly underneath was a clean sticker, laid over several others of the same shape. “CLASS OF 2012”

Over it all was the screeching of music Coco didn’t recognise. Much like the sitcom, maybe evil people just had different interests.

It wouldn’t surprise her.

What did surprise was the gathering crowd stood still at the gates outside that had begun to stare directly at her.

“You do need to move if you expect me to get out of the time machine, Coco.”

More than anything, the sound of her first name leaving Nina’s lips shifted Coco’s focus. If not in courtesy, she moved to get a better look at this girl, this stranger who must surely have replaced Nina Cortex whilst Coco wasn’t looking.

With her exit, the time machine promptly vanished.

“You just… did you just call me–”

Getting interrupted was beginning to become standard for the evening, it seemed. A voice called from the crowd.

“Wow, Cortex,” a girl said. Her face was gaunt and impossibly pale, even more so than Coco had ever seen Nina. Dozens of needle-sharp teeth jutted from behind her lips. “You arrive in a time machine and there still wasn’t enough time to make your face not fugly.”

“Pity. I was trying to copy you.”

The quip came back so quick that Coco couldn’t help but snort.

“Who’s your pet?” the girl asked back.

“This is my _girlfriend,”_ Nina replied, a sparkle in her eyes catching Coco’s. “Coco.”

The sparkle said, ‘go with it, or I kill you’.

“Right. Your uncle make her, too?”

“Yeah. But she rebelled. Destroyed his castle. Kicked his pathetic ass when he tried to take over the world. Four times.”

Something close to awe fell over the girl before it was promptly chewed to pieces by silver teeth sharp enough to administer anaesthesia.

“Doesn’t say much when it’s someone in your family that she’s fucking over.”

“At least I’m still getting some.”

The crowed around all breathed a hushed, “ooh, she went there!” in solidarity as this girl’s sneer forced several of her sharp teeth through her own lips. There was no blood, and Coco felt her skin crawl as they split back out when she once again began to talk.

“How about you go fuck yourself, Cortex.”

All the while, Nina stood there with the dirtiest smile on her face. Arms crossed, she glared at the girl.

“Ha! I would. But I don’t need to.”

The world moved on, the crowd dispersing behind this other girl as more important matters took over. More students arrived, more implausible vehicles dropping them off as each one followed alongside the masses into the interior of the castle.

And still Nina grinned. Coco had every urge in body telling her to fight it.

“We’re getting jiggy with it now, are we?”

The smile faltered. “You’re here to make me look good,” she said, quickly. “I might as well have some fun with it.”

Obviously. “I thought you didn’t want _arm candy_.”

“I didn’t want Crunch as arm candy. I’ll take you over him any day.”

 _We’ll see about that,_ Coco thought. If Nina wanted her to play this game, she was getting a few turns in. Whether the little scientist wanted it, or not.

So long as she didn’t burn down the castle, that wouldn’t count as a ruined prom night, right?

If Nina wanted the other little creeps to think she had a girlfriend, so be it.

The entrance hall was as much as Coco had expected; an overly grey space crafted from solid bricks and sadness. She could imagine the place at night, devoid of life as a dreary air blanketed the place in shadow.

But right now, there was a prom going on.

Light blared from an adjoining room, music filling the atmosphere with the promise of food and dancing. Just beneath the noise, she could hear the chatter of teenagers as they danced and ate and did whatever else it was that teenagers did at prom.

Yet, there was no evil laughter, or fire or… or dragons. Or whatever! The students of Evil Public School had never been a point of interest for Coco. She never imagined she would ever have to interact with them. They were side-characters in Nina’s story, and that wasn’t a story Coco saw herself reading any time soon.

Well, she had thought that, at least.

Coco had expected some sort of interaction with a teacher, to hand over a ticket, or to announce that Nina had arrived. She mentioned as much to Nina.

“Evil. Prom,” she reiterated. Again. “We don’t need admission. We don’t need anything to come here. Non-students aren’t even allowed.”

“Which means… you’re expected to bring one?”

“Duh.”

Evil had never seemed so complicated to Coco. Evil did bad stuff. Heroes did good stuff. It was a simple formula and one Coco had found to be fairly accurate.

She had never imagined there were so many equations to work out in between.

… Were students being graded on this too?

Or was this just a perverse social expectation that flipped depending on what side of the wall you were on?

…

Evil school seemed complicated. But all that was forgotten when they entered the dance hall.

“Woah…”

Befitting a castle that had a front hall bigger than even two or three of Coco’s home, the party hall was something much… more. The vaulted ceiling stretched up for what seemed to be forever, the beams above mere pencil lines above the multitude of multi-coloured lights. Purples and reds illuminated the walls, shifting erratically as music played from a dozen speakers. The music was heavy, loud. It crashed with symbols and rock guitar, but neither was the place a club; Coco could hear the chatter of students all around her. The clinking of plates and the sound of feet hitting out against a dark wooden dancefloor.

Coco and Nina were paid no notice as they stepped forward, surrounded by a steady flow of students as they arrived and left of their own accord. It was a sea of bodies – evil bodies – and Coco was being lost in the rapids that pulled her in.

“Eh, I’ve seen better,” Nina stated nonchalantly. Her eyes followed the same pattern as Coco, clearly unimpressed. “Madame Amberly’s held theirs in a volcano last year. Not some castle from a has been that no one’s even heard of.”

In all honesty, Coco couldn’t agree. Despite the dark, despite the tense atmosphere that separated her from everything and everyone she fought against … the affair was loud. It was huge and it was as much a party as Coco could have ever imagined a party being. It left her jaw agape as she imagined how little it mattered to Nina that something _better_ was commonplace.

“I think it’s pretty cool.”

“You would,” Nina scoffed. “Come on. I have plebeians to impress.”

“Good to know that’s all I’m good for.”

“Hey, _I’m_ impressed. And it takes a lot to impress me.”

As faintly cocky as that had sounded, Coco had to agree. If not because she knew Nina to be terribly picky in every fashion, then because the new ideas that were forming in Coco’s head.

About this new Nina and where the heck she had come from.

Despite the apparent lack of ‘rules’, patterns revealed themselves as Coco analysed the room. Food, for instance; students sat in patterns of six around each table as staff in uniform wandered back and forth between the party and a nearby kitchen. Each moved smoothly, their bodies entirely level, like clockwork toys made to walk along a given path.

A thick helmet was strapped around each of their heads.

Coco stared levelling at Nina. “They’re being mind-controlled, aren’t they?”

“Who else is going to serve food to a cheap-ass evil school like EPS?”

It likely did somewhat save on expenses, at the very least. If the school was as cheap and nasty as Nina constantly made it out to be, stealing staff from a party wasn’t _too_ unusual.

Nina still seemed to want some of the food they were supplying, however. She led Coco to a random table, already filled with four students (or maybe their dates) eating some sort of steak with swirled sides of seasoned potatoes.

“Narsissa,” Nina greeted as she sat down.

Coco followed before Nina had the chance to usher her down, leaning her elbows on the cloth as she tangled her fingers together.

“Cortex,” Narsissa replied. She was an odd thing, coated entirely in yellow scales and the thick body of a snake rising up where the neck should have logically been located. “Decided to show your face.”

“Naturally. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

“Sure. You trying for Queen?”

“Hell no; I haven’t got time for all that crap.

“At least we agree on something.” Her head shift over the table towards Coco. The lower body did not. “Your latest victim, I take.”

Nina let a confident hum rise from her throat. “Actually, she’s–”

“Nina’s my adoring girlfriend,” Coco beamed. “Aren’t you, Sweetie?”

Nina stilted, her eyes narrowing at Coco before she turned back to the peers. “Y-yes. My girlfriend.”

“I’m Coco.” Was Coco meant to offer her hand? Did evil people shake hands?

Narsissa didn’t seem to bother, so Coco decided against it.

“Coco,” Narsissa repeated. “Nice name.” She mimicked Coco’s own pose, leaning her head even further across the table. “Pity you ended up with Nina, of all girls. I never took her for a dyke.”

Coco felt her fur bristle beneath her suit, though not for the reason she expected. “You’d be surprised. It’s rather fun having a girlfriend with customisable fingers.”

It was with a sheer feeling of glee that Coco saw Nina head snap to her direction, just out of the corner of her eye. That little blush bloomed through again, now only barely hidden by the red lights shifting overhead.

The distinct sound of Nina’s gauntlet fists clenching beneath the table’s surface rang out pleasantly against Coco’s ears. Even if her own palms had grown decidedly sweaty since the opening act had started.

She had no idea how long she could make this last, but she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

“Is that so?” Narsissa hissed as a slick smile spread over her features. “I’ll say it again; a pity. I could have offered you my talents.”

“Noted.” Coco’s tone was teasingly pleasant. “But believe me, Nina is an expert when it comes to handiwork.”

Coco could see Nina’s sneering. Eyes just about twitching. Her head constantly lost in the spaces between Coco and Narsissa’s.

Maybe this sort of talk was as mundane as everything else Coco had encountered. There was still that seed, though. The idea that it was not, and the red spreading through Nina’s cheeks implied that this could very much have been the case.

“So how did you meet? I can’t seem to imagine Nina picking _you_ up.”

“Well actually, I–” Nina tried.

She really did.

“I was designed by her uncle to be a general in his army. But let’s just say he evolved me a little too well and paid the price for it. Nina was a happy little addition to that price.”

Narsissa sighed in understanding, as if some grand factor of the world finally made sense to her. “Ah, so you were that one that claimed Nina.”

“I kidnapped _you_ for this prom!” Nina argued. “I caught you in a cage!”

“Yes, you did!” Coco scratched at the back of Nina neck. She drew back suddenly at the shiver she felt beneath Nina’s skin, but fought every nerve in her body that tried to show it. “She’s a good girl like that. Very skilled at catching me if I send her out on the prowl.”

Several tall men in silver helmets arrived with two plates and a set of glasses filled with something light and fizzy. It was that same steak that Coco head seen the others eating, complete potatoes and fried vegetables.

She could smell the hint of champagne from the flutes as he bubbles popped away.

It was not often that Coco ate meat. Not that she wasn’t able; even before Cortex had experimented on Crash and herself, her species was known for being opportunistic hunters when it came to food. Meat was on the menu if she chose to do so.

The meat was perfectly tender and seasoned with something Coco couldn’t describe. She would enjoy the flavour and keep the thing down, at any rate.

The champagne, less so. Small sips managed to hide the bitter taste that seemed determined to stick to the back of her tongue.

Nina only looked at her, eyes questioning what she was even looking at. Coco hoped it was because Nina assumed bandicoots were herbivores. Or maybe it was simply seeing Coco drink alcohol.

Maybe Coco wasn’t the only one discovering new facts about her archenemy.

“I must say, that is rather adorable,” Narsissa continued. Oddly, only after Coco had finished chewing. “Hardly any evil relationships adopt a healthy predator and prey dynamic anymore.”

Seriously? “Oh, tell me about it. I know I’m the furry one, but I do enjoy my little Sweetie being the animal every now and then.”

Nina’s knife chipped through her plate, tearing at the cloth surface beneath.

Narsissa laughed. “Seems to me she’s more like your little bitch.”

There was that feeling again. The one that sat wrong in Coco’s stomach. Coco had insulted Nina plenty over the years. She had insulted Nina only an hour ago, but the sharp bite of the words at this party twisted at the wrong strings. They played a sound that felt sour, even to Coco.

The teasing, that was fun. Getting one over on Nina Cortex? Even better.

But a girl sitting across from another girl, talking down to her partner? That felt so… every day. As mundane as Nina’s bedroom or the thought of Cortex watching a sitcom. It was something Yaya would text Coco about in the middle of the night, shivering and in tears.

It was something she had thought Nina would do to someone lower on the food chain.

In this place, Coco had deduced that Nina barely seemed to be on the food chain at all. Even if this was all evil social etiquette, Coco couldn’t stand the feel of it in her skin, not as much as she thought she could.

“Maybe I’m just old fashioned. I’d take a little bitch over a dog like you any day.”

Narsissa’s neck visibly stiffened under overhead lights, the red shining into the wet of her eyes. The others at the table looked up from their food, the conversation finally worth their while.

But then Narsissa smiled. The lights in the room spun, coating the table in a pleasant blue glow.

“Protective, too. You don’t much of that, either.” She went back to her food, and Coco let out a held breath as she followed.

As Coco took her next piece of steak, Nina whispered to her. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Coco whispered back “Playing the part.” Coco didn’t really know what she was doing anymore, but she wasn’t about to let Nina know that. “Making you look good. Unless you _want_ me to be a wet blanket?”

“There’s a difference between a wet blanket and acting like you’re the one in charge of me!”

“Maybe that’s the kind of girlfriend I am.”

On a whim, she leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on Nina’s forward. Narsissa caught sight, eyeing Coco as she sent a devilish grin back.

She kept that grin as she growled at Nina.

“It would have been nice if you had _said_ we were dating before I got here.”

“I didn’t think you’d agree if I did.”

“You kidnapped me for this!”

“And you could have totally left when I went to shrink your shoes!”

Coco couldn’t deny that, nor did she have a satisfactory answer as to why she hadn’t. Not one that would satisfy her enough to justify arguing about it.

“Well, I didn’t. And if you want your girlfriend at this party then I get choose what kind of girlfriend that is.”

“But–”

“Or I could spill all the beans.” Coco let her grin grow wider. “Fair’s fair.”

“I don’t _do_ fair.”

“Hence why I have to even the odds.”

And so the eating continued. Drinking continued.

Talking continued. Narsissa was not something Coco would cite as pleasant company. The way that the reptile’s eyes moved over Coco sent something unpleasant down her back. A thin tongue occasional flicked out past her teeth and something ancient in Coco’s DNA screamed that she had to run. But she didn’t. Nor did Narsissa make a move to warrant it.

Several others at the table chimed in, eventually. A werecrab and his girlfriend. A singer who hypnotised businessmen to steal their money. None seemed connected to Narsissa, which only made Coco wonder why Nina hadn’t just used that as ammo against her.

Or maybe she had, and Coco just got her claws in there first.

When the food was finally gone, and the bitter alcohol was finally down Coco’s throat, it was only then that she noticed Nina hadn’t touch her own champagne.

“You don’t drink?” Coco whispered, more than curious.

If Coco had known that, she wouldn’t have bothered stomaching the drink herself.

“ _Funny._ I can’t hold the glass.”

“What? What do you…?”

Oh. Right.

Big metal hands.

Not exactly a feature you want when handling slender champagne flutes.

“Straw?”

Nina glared. “I am _not_ drinking champagne through a straw. The point in bringing you to prom was to try and not look pathetic.”

Coco supposed that was true, even if the idea of a silly straw dipped in champagne appealed to her more childish side. If it weren’t for whole _evil prom_ thing, she’d likely have done it herself. Even faster, if it was out of boredom.

Nina didn’t seem to be the silly straw type.

Coco was a hero at heart. Also, goofy. It would be hard for anyone to spend time around Crash and not end up a little more fun than when they started.

Doing the good thing always came first, however. It wasn’t a compulsion, or something more required in her life. She didn’t _need_ to be hero to feel good about herself. But it always made her feel good when she did the right thing.

Even when the good thing needed to be done to someone like Nina.

“I could… I don’t know, hold the glass?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“No, seriously. I can hold the glass for you. You seem kinda… miserable.”

Nina glared, “You’d be miserable too, if it was your prom and you wanted a drink.”

“Then let me hold the glass for you.”

She seemed to think about it, staring at her flute for longer than Coco thought necessary. Coco had offered, hadn’t she? What else was there to think about?

You didn’t offer something if you weren’t willing to do it in the first place. As evil as Nina was, surely she still understood that much about basic generosity.

“Why would you do that for me?”

Maybe not. “Because you want a drink and you can’t drink, and I can fix that.”

“You don’t _need_ to fix it.”

“I want to help.”

“Why would you want to help me?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do!”

Coco flinched at the sound of her own voice, warily looking down to the other sides of the table. Only then did she realise that Narsissa was gone, and the other three debating something furiously between themselves.

… Not that it mattered to Coco if they found out she had been lying for Nina, of course. Not at all…

“Look, you want champagne, and I don’t mind holding the glass for you.” Then something softer came out. Something that felt closer to Coco being Coco. “No one’s watching. It’ll be fine.”

Coco briefly realised the same logic could be held for a straw, but it felt oddly unimportant as the moment stretched. _Nina said no to the straw_ , Coco reasoned. _She didn’t so no to me helping._

“What happened to evening the score?”

“You try and make me look like a piece of meat again and I’ll cut your score right down. Right now… I’m just trying to be nice.”

Nina scoffed, something gentler than a glare – but not yet close enough to smile – leaning onto her lips. “You’re being nice to me. Creepy.”

“Call it payback for you calling me Coco.”

Nina paused. “… W-when have I ever called you Coco?”

“When we were getting out the time machine. And back at your place.”

“Oh. R-right…”

There it was again. That little moment of something that felt very much unlike Nina Cortex. One last time, Coco decided she would let it fly. She doubted curiously would give Nina another chance.

“Do you want some of your evil booze or not?”

The pause was lengthy, but that’s all it was in the end. A pause before Nina pressed play. “Sure,” she mumbled. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

Puffing out her chest as if she’d very much won a most important argument, Coco reached over for Nina’s glass. All the while, Nina sat with her gauntlets awkwardly piled in her lap, the flute square in her sights.

“Ready?” Coco asked, holding the glass to Nina lips.

She hoped that the closeness hid the slight shake in her grip.

“… Sure.”

At that, Coco tipped up the glass. Nina’s mouth opened ever so to receive her prize, but the closeness of it all left Coco in an uncomfortable haze. The slight heat that Nina’s breath left on her hand, the vibrations of each gentle swallow as it reverberated down the glass and into Coco’s bones.

The music and the rabble and the smells of food and stale sweat seemed to fade as Nina’s mouth and Coco’s hand felt like the only two things left in the castle. In this little moment that Coco couldn’t imagine happening in any other time or place.

So much so, that she seemed to forget she was even there at all. Nina mumbled something into the glass. Something vaguely similar to, “you can stop now.”

Coco’s hand couldn’t retract fast enough, slamming the flute down on the table as the moment finally came to an end. At the same time, it felt strange, to end something so personal with someone she had been so sure that she hated.

As if it all pertained to something huge that wouldn’t happen without it. But the glass was back now.

The world was not. Not yet.

“That wasn’t awkward,” Nina snarked.

“You’re the one making it awkward,” Coco quickly replied.

“My archnemesis just poured champagne down my throat because I couldn’t hold the glass. Basic fact makes it weird.”

“About that…”

Nina threw Coco a curious look. One tinged with a unhealthy hint worry. As if she was about to be quizzed for a test she had not studied for.

At least, Coco assumed. She hadn’t ever attended a real school.

“Why did you really bring me here?”

With a sense of thinly veiled relief, Nina rolled her eyes, perhaps a little too quickly. “I told you why; I needed to kidnap a date for prom, and you were my best option.”

“The _objectively best_ choice, you said.”

“Yeah, so?”

“You can’t be an _objectively_ best choice. I’m a person! You’re a person. If I’m objectively the best to you, that means you prefer me.”

“S-same thing.”

“It’s not. I’m not better as a fact. I’m the best in your opinion.”

Nina began to squirm in her seat. There was that clicking again, down below the table where Coco couldn’t see. It felt less fun, now. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“I don’t need to tell you anything about anything!”

“Then what _is_ all of this? Bringing me to your school prom and trying to impress some spikey mouthed weirdos. And telling them I’m your girlfriend?

“It’s tradition,” she muttered through gritted.

“Yeah, kidnapping. I got that. I _almost_ believe that. But I bet you wouldn’t have claimed Crunch was your boyfriend!”

“I-I’m gay, dipshit. They would know it’s a lie!”

“Narsissa didn’t even know you were gay! And if everyone in this school thinks you suck, it would sure as heck get around quickly enough. Isn’t that what your stupid school’s all about? Being mean to people?”

Suddenly, the music was back, drowning any sound that Nina might have made, and Coco was left looking at an uncomfortable little girl squirming in her chair.

“Did you tell them you had a girlfriend and had to cover it up?”

“You just said they didn’t know I was gay!”

“Then tell me what’s actually going on and I won’t have to keep grasping at straws!”

“I wanted this!”

These sorts of moments tended to go utterly silent, in Coco’s experience. The sort of silence that falls over a subject just as heavy as the quiet itself. But in this moment, it was the music and the people all around and the clinking of plates and glass. The world moved on as Coco’s came to an almighty halt.

She wasn’t sure how to get it moving again.

“What are you talking about?”

“I wanted this,” she repeated, her nose curled up and her lips tight. “I wanted you at prom, I wanted to parade you around as my girlfriend.”

“Why?”

“You know why. Don’t even pretend that you don’t.”

Coco did. Even before, she had her suspicions. She was just so sure that she had to be wrong. That there must have been something that she wasn’t seeing straight.

Ironically, that very thing seemed to be Nina.

“So… you’re into me?”

“Yeah,” Nina snipped.

“And your plan was to, what? Kidnap me for prom and claim I was your girlfriend and hope I would go along with it after we left?

“Ugh, of course it wasn’t. Give me some credit.”

“I’m trying really hard to think of a reason why I should.”

Nina’s hands came up from under table, her thick fingers sliding uncomfortably together.

“I… wanted to see what it was like.”

Coco scoffed. “Having a girlfriend?”

“Having you.”

A heat rose into Coco’s cheeks. Not because of Nina, she told herself. But because _someone_ had said something to her… like that. That _she_ was the ideal, not simply a partner just like her.

All at once, Nina’s objective opinion seemed a whole lot more potent. Something that had finally created the buzz in Coco’s head that she had been waiting for.

It was almost intoxicating. Almost.

Whether she took the silence for something positive or not, Nina kept going. “What else was I supposed to do? We don’t talk; we kick the shit out of each other. All we _do_ is kick the shit of each other. But tonight, I could kidnap you and have you as my girlfriend. I could do all the stupid stuff I wanted to do.” She paused. “Some of it. And I could show up all the assholes who said I was too fugly to get a date to this stupid party.”

“A stupid party you wanted to bring me to?”

“Yeah. The stupid party I wanted to bring you to…”

Nina slumped forward onto her elbow, a wide hand coming up as she balanced her chin to top. Her eyes settled on the champagne flute.

“Couldn’t even drink my own fucking champagne.”

If another place, in another time, Coco might have called it romantic. The feeling of her bones shivering, the heated breath on her fur. A moment so close, where she did something _for_ someone that they couldn’t do for themselves.

Not because she was sorry or felt pity. But because it was just something she wanted to do. Even without the party, or the prom. Or all the crud she’d heard about Nina. She would do it again.

“The champagne thing was cute,” Coco found herself saying. “ _Is_ cute.”

“Oh, sure. It definitely is. Now doubt. When _both_ people are giving the champagne to each other.”

“Is that another ‘stupid thing’ you wanted to do?” It would certainly explain her reluctance.

“… Maybe.”

Bullseye.

Coco picked at her sleeves, searching for anything to fill in the moment. Far be it from silent, it dragged on, with Coco by the collar and struggling against the flow of concrete.

… Her sleeve.

“You had a suit picked out for me.”

“Yep.”

“ _And_ a dress. You really put effort into this.”

“Not much point in trying to pretend if I didn’t go the full hog.”

“Was the dress nice?”

Nina shrugged. “It was okay. Two kinds of blue.”

“ _How was it._ ”

Nina squirmed again. “Midnight blue. Like mine. With sky blue instead of black. Thought it would match your fur.”

Oh…

“And the suit?”

“Didn’t think you’d pick the suit.”

“Then why didn’t you show me the dress?”

“I felt stupid!” she hissed back. “I didn’t want to look desperate!”

“You didn’t want to look desperate after _kidnapping_ me?!”

“Kidnapping your date is normal. Kidnapping your archnemesis and picking out a dress for her isn’t. I didn’t know if you were butch or girly or whatever so I got both.”

Coco couldn’t even tell if that was an insult or not. “ _Butch?_ ”

“I don’t know! I don’t do people. Or all the stupid little cliques people sort themselves into. I just wanted to play it safe.”

“If you were kidnapping me anyway then why go to the effort?”

“… Full hog,” she repeated. “Kinda… maybe thought that if I got you to enjoy it… then maybe it could stick. Or something.”

“If that’s… if you wanted–” The next words came slowly, like treacle. But like treacle, they were not entirely unpleasant. You just needed the right situation to pair it with. Coco took in a deep breath. “If you went to the effort get five pairs of shoes, a dress _and_ a suit… why didn’t you just ask?”

“It’s–”

“Screw tradition! And you know that’s not what I’m talking about. If you went to all that trouble just to _maybe_ impress me with your little scheme, why didn’t you just ask me out instead?”

Despite everything that they had gone through, despite every little ploy to ruin each other’s’ lives, to kill each other, to destroy their machines… the next five word broke something delicate in Coco.

“I knew you’d say no,” Nina said, simply.

As if it were an objective fact.

It should have been.

But then, that meant Coco was falling into the same trap that she had forced Nina to back into. Nothing about people was objective fact. If nothing else, Coco had learned that this evening.

Even before this evening, she’d had to confront the mere idea that even Cortex had some perverse sense of _kindness._ That he wasn’t just some evil madman with an inferiority complex. He had a niece. Or whatever Nina was that no one (and everyone) spoke about when they weren’t listening. Crash had said there’d been pride, at one point. When he spoke about Nina and her accomplishment.

Heck, Crash working with Cortex at all during the whole debacle with the Twins brought about truths that Coco wished she didn’t have to acknowledge. There’d been some broken sense of camaraderie between them. One that Coco refused to believe at the time… to the point that she’d almost endangered their whole attempt at saving the world.

They had bonded, for a moment. Over this shared danger to their way of life, as unhealthy as it was from any way you wanted to look at it.

Dingodile had started up a restaurant, or so Coco had heard. A small place with a focus on bayou fare with a touch of home. Wooden floors, pleasant seating with an atmosphere as warm as the food he served.

He had a logo. According to Crunch, it was all very professional.

Tropy was the strangest creature of all. Much like many aspects of the evening, seeing him had felt so casual, so every day. Like he was a disgruntled uncle, going abut his day and forcing himself to tolerate a family he otherwise didn’t want to be a part of. Giving his niece a ride to prom to impress her friends.

Far be it from the complete reality, but to a casual observer? To Crash or Crunch or Yaya, if they had been gathered at the edge of the iceberg, listening in to only the barest essentials?

It was almost like a family

A horridly dysfunctional family, but a complete family unit all the same.

It shifted Coco’s reality, only just. One inch to the left. Just enough for the world to be entirely different, but familiar all the same.

A new perspective on aspects she had never considered to have other perspectives at all.

Coco would have definitely said no, if Nina had asked her to be a part of prom. A part of everything that being evil represented.

But now Coco was one inch to the left…

The music faded out as a cackling voice boomed from the speakers. “Right, you little shits. Slow dance time. Will there be another chance after this?” it asked, neither feminine nor masculine. But also both at the same time. “We’re not telling you. Grow a pair of balls before the song ends.”

The room fell into a gentle silence. The shifting lights halted, dimming into something almost pleasant as a slow melody played out into the room. Coco stared blankly as mangled creatures and vampires wandered uncomfortably out in pairs, holding hands – tentacles, talons. Hooks? – and claimed a space as their own. Several groups dragged their heels, at the gleeful whims of their partner. Other stood or sat on their own, watching the event unfold.

Nina was one of them, back turned to Coco as she stared out onto the dancefloor, head casually rested in one of her gauntlets.

In that moment, Coco knew how she saw them; like thin glasses of champagne

There wasn’t a sadness, or pity in Coco’s heart. She’d known Nina long enough that there was little left to pity about her. Nina could build massive machines and topple powers far beyond her mortal control. She was one of the greatest minds that Coco had ever met, for better or for worse.

Whatever she felt for Nina Cortex in that moment, it wasn’t pity. It would be an insult to her archnemesis to do something as low as _pity_ her. Even when Coco was kicking her backside to the ground, Nina was–

… Nina was worth more than that. On what level, Coco wasn’t yet sure. But she knew it was true.

“Ask me,” Coco said.

It hadn’t been expected, but she had said it.

Nina sighed. “Ask what?”

“Ask me what you want to ask me.”

As Coco watched the back of Nina’s head, she noticed the stiffness in her neck. The slight way she flexed her bare shoulders. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I already know the answer, idiot.”

And as right as it all felt, Coco couldn’t shake the feeling that it would have been distinctly better if Nina didn’t make it so frustratingly difficult. “If you know the answer, then I’m surprised you _haven’t_ asked me, yet.”

It was impossible for Nina to see the slight curve on Coco’s lips, but the bandicoot hoped she could hear it.

Nina put up a wall, voice bored. “Fine. _Do you, Coco Bandicoot, want to dance with me, Nina Cortex, the girl who kidnapped you?_ ” As if the answer was already fact.

“Ask me properly.”

Only the music existed, once more. Nina breathed, twisting on her chair until she could see Coco again. Her massive fingers flexed. Coco wondered if Nina could even feel the stretch that organic muscles would give. If she felt that tension in the body that relieved the pressure in your head.

Maybe it was just habit.

Maybe it was a subconscious show for Coco herself.

“If you turn this whole thing around and laugh in my face–”

“Ask me, Nina.”

Another breath, up through her noise until her lungs simply can’t take it anymore. The old determination that Coco was used to see flickered back into her eyes. A spark that had potential. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Coco didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

There wasn’t fire, but it was just as bright. Something Coco had never seen on Nina’s face before; steady warmth, rather than an open flame. Something almost comfortable.

But she wasn’t quite there. Not yet. “S-sure,” Nina replied, hesitantly. “You’re not lying, right? You actually mean this?”

“I’m a good guy; I don’t _do_ lying.”

Not like this, anyway.

In what was hopefully a show of good faith, Coco got to her feet, brushing down the back of her suit and standing up straight.

Nina quickly followed, reaching out for one of Coco’s hands. Too quickly, as it happened. The metal gauntlets once against clamped down hard on Coco’s fur, her skin. “Too tight. _Too tight!_ ”

“S-shit, okay. Sorry.”

The other students may have seemed like a delicate champagne glass to Nina, but Coco definitely felt like one. Was this another reason that Nina had been hesitant? Because of something as simple as holding her hand?

Nina Cortex didn’t do a lot of things, Coco had found. Delicate appeared to be chiefly among them.

The grip loosened, barely. Stuck between holding tight and eager to let go. In the end, she gave in and took her hands away.

“Wait, I got this.” Nina closed her finger, as if they were hold as pole, or stick. Closed, but with space between them. “Now I can’t crush your weak little fleshy hands.”

Coco slid her fingers warily into the gap but found the metal firm. “I’ll take that as a nicety on your part.”

“I don’t _do_ n–” she began to retort but quickly stopped herself. “Y-yeah. Sure. Let’s go with that.”

When Coco didn’t move, Nina took the signal. She pulled her date towards the floor. The centre was full, fit to burst with too many couples clinging close to each other.

Nina stopped at the edge, eager to be there at all. When they were, Nina slid one hand behind Coco’s back. The other, she used to pull Coco’s hand gently in the air.

Coco attempted to hold back a giggle, only for it come out as a not-so-gentle snort. “You practised dancing?”

“I watched a video,” she said simply. At first, before she lowered her tone and raised her eyebrows. “I could put my hands around your hips if you want?”

Cocky Nina was a strange mix, when they were holding onto each other. Both a comforting normal and creeping sensation that felt like it was already sliding around Coco’s hips at the same time.

Yet… not an entirely unpleasant one. Moe treacle.

Full hog, as Nina had said.

“Is that what _you_ want?” Coco replied.

If not for Nina’s locked hand, Coco was sure it would have clenched tight around her bones. Nina broke out in a stammer. “It’s fine. I was joking.” Her smile fell, if only slightly. “Just don’t leave and I’ll do whatever you want.”

Much like the party Coco had never experienced, she felt something light within her. At the thought of someone wanting something from her that no one else had ever thought to ask for. “Let me move your hand, Nina.”

Nina did as she was told, her mouth clenched as tight as her hands once were as Coco pulled them to the centre of her waist.

“Waist, I can do.”

Which was ideal, given it only just occurred to her that the size of Nina’s hands brought them to her hips regardless. But it felt less intrusive than Coco imagined a real set of hands might.

Illusion of comfort or not, Nina’s smile returned.

It returned, conquered and took claim over her face. Whether that conqueror was a hardened-warrior or a giddy schoolgirl, Coco wasn’t so sure.

This should have been a moment that Nina could use. Something to show off to her classmates. Coco had expected to be pulled next to Narsissa, or the toothy girl from earlier.

Nina was entirely focused on Coco. Focused on how tight her hands were, how close they were. Coco’s spare hand went to Nina’s bare shoulder. When Coco put the other around Nina’s waist, she supposed that the girl felt the same things. This closeness to a person that she hadn’t felt before.

But unlike Nina, Coco most definitely felt the warmth of Nina’s body, of the fabric of her dress and the softness that lay beneath the fabric. Every minor movement from each that felt unbearably new and alien… yet warm and wanted.

Wanted.

That… was a new word. For Nina Cortex. _Wanted_

Nina eyed Coco curiously. “You… uh, alright, there?”

“Hm?” Coco felt herself blush. She knew her fur hid it well. “Yes! I’m good. All good.”

With that, they danced.

Well, Nina danced.

Coco stepped in time, eyeing her feet every few seconds to ensure that, yes, they were moving as she had ordered.

“You’re trying too hard,” Nina eventually said.

“Well, I’m sorry for not taking dance lessons.”

“I watched _one_ video. Just follow my lead.”

“That almost sounded suave.”

“I try.”

“Oh, I know. You tried _super_ hard tonight.”

“I did, and you’re dancing with me. I refuse to take that as an insult.”

It wasn’t evil banter, or even mildly threatening banter, but it was enough for Coco. The music flowed on. Nina and Coco were lost in the moment, surrounded by the dozens of others accepting that the same had happened to them.

Nina had likely imagined more than this. Maybe her head would have been resting on Coco’s shoulder, or there would have been a romantic kiss in the final moments of the song. Maybe there was something that only people did at the end of evil slow dances; it wouldn’t be a surprise at this point.

Coco didn’t know about any of that, not yet.

But in the moment, with the gentle sway of their hips and Nina’s arms against Coco’s waist, it felt like a good start.

And Coco Bandicoot was curious to see where it would lead.


End file.
